


Crack in a Haystack

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-19
Updated: 2011-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-14 21:29:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rita tries to find dirt on Runcorn only to find things heating up... Challenge #27 with HiH_Writersblock</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crack in a Haystack

**Author's Note:**

> I AM GOING TO HELL FOR THIS. So i really needed to write the Albert/Straw/Goat OT3 pairing and I thought I'd pair it with challenge #27 which is 'Animagi'. It features a very random scene with a lot of crack and no hay. This is not for the faint hearted and will either make you puke or laugh. I'm so sorry Mother. I turned into this after you raised me so well.
> 
> THIS IS DONE IN 30MINUTES. Expect mistakes. Feel free to point em out too.

The stale air, and horrid cooking smells, in the ventilation shafts where nearly enough for Rita Skeeter to regret her decision but she would seek her revenge.

 

Albert Runcorn was the bane of her existence. A powerful force in the ministry that had turned from blackmailing muggleborns to blackmailing reporters who fought for the truth. She could not let him continue his reign off terror over good people like herself. She had to deal with him and she did the only thing she knew how.

 

She has spent the afternoon travelling through shafts in his apartment building as her beetle animagus, trying to find his apartment. She had looked at the maps previously but she was still very lost.

 

As she turned the last corner, she looked through the last vent of the floor and prayed to see some sort of evidence that this was Runcorn’s flat. Her prayers where answered as she saw a picture of Runcorn and his late wife standing proudly on the mantle piece.

 

She decided that the best course of action was to scuttle down the sideboards until she got onto the coat stand and then got the ground. As her foot touched the ground, she quickly transformed into her human self and hid behind the large stack of coats on the dark wooden stand.

 

The room looked like it had not been decorated in years. Emma Runcorn, the late wife was obviously in charge of it, as the living room was decked in floral material and the colour of a dying rose. It once would of looked like the homely room of an eighty-year-old woman but now looked like something out of a horror flick. Rita scowled. The man clearly had enough money through his dodgy dealings to decorate so she had to wonder what Runcorn actually spent his money on.

 

‘No doubt on hookers and drugs,’ she mused aloud. As she said it, she ran her hand down the side of an expensive looking leather jacket, into the pockets to see what she could find. The pocket was empty but as she was just about to walk out from behind the coats, a loud moan distracted her.

 

She looked around, trying to listen out for where it might be coming from when another, louder moan, sounded from beyond the kitchen.

 

Carefully she stepped out from behind the coats towards the kitchen, carefully avoiding the ugly vases and tall plant pots in her way. A quick glance ahead showed that there was a large white door, slightly ajar, just beside the last cabinet of the kitchen.

 

The apartment itself was a weird shape. The kitchen and living room where practically one square room with doors at all four corners. She assumed at least one must be a bathroom and another a bedroom, maybe even two bedrooms, with an office for Runcorn.

 

As she moved through the kitchen, she observed the methodical way it was set up. Everything was in order, like a show kitchen. It wasn’t brand new but it looked like it hadn’t been used in a number of years. As she grew nearer to the door, she spotted the bin and it answered all her unspoken questions. A large black bag stood beside the pin with a pizza box and a beer can poking out the top and the bin itself looked like it was overflowing with Chinese food cartons. Runcorn was obviously a lost man without his wife around to wait and serve on him.

 

Although he was dirty, and clearly missing the presence of his wife, these simple facts were not going to write a decent article but the moaning that could be heard from the door that where growing louder each step she took, could do.

 

Rita’s mind was on overdrive. She could not imagine what was behind that door. Maybe Runcorn was having an affair with the minister’s wife? Maybe he was a homosexual who was a lover to the minister himself? She was already writing the articles opening in her head, without even having seen the man in question.

 

Runcorn’s Torrid Affairs Revealed. Oh yes. This would be perfect revenge. No amount of money in the world could make this story go away.

 

As she stepped up to the door, she was nearly scared to look in. She didn’t want to find Runcorn wanking, she wanted a full on scandal and she peered through the cracks of the heavy door, she got it.

 

 

\--

 

Runcorn’s Torrid Affairs Revealed.

 

I, Rita Skeeter, have always been a journalist searching for the truth and this is exactly what I bring you today.

At exactly 6pm on Monday the 15th of August, Mr Albert Runcorn was caught in a position that he cannot deny was unbecoming of a man in his power. I feel like it is my responsibility as a hard-hitting journalist to inform you that Mr Runcorn is successfully coping with the death of his wife with aid from…

 

\--

 

Rita Skeeter is not a woman to be shocked, but the site that was before her was something she had could not even imagine.

 

The king sized bed was covered in a black silk sheet and Runcorn was spread out with his feet leaning against the bottom bedposts. He was completely naked and his head was thrown back in ecstasy.

 

Rita’s body was warming up. She had never seen a man so handsome as Runcorn before. Her pale hands rubbed her thigh as she continued to watch the man as he leant over to a silver side cabinet on the left side of his bed. It was then that she saw, for the first time, the white goat standing beside his bed.

 

‘Oh my Billy. What do we have here? It is Sandra the straw. Would you like to play Billy?’ Runcorn’s voice broke as he spoke, obviously strained by his load moaning before.

 

Rita could not contain the gasp when Runcorn lifted up his lower body and thrust the green straw into himself.

 

‘You like that Billy, yes?’

 

She could not believe her eyes. Runcorn was fucking himself with a straw as a white goat with small brown spot over it’s right eye, bleated in enjoyment. This was the most bizarre sight she had ever seen yet she could not take her eyes off it.

 

Rita could not hold back any longer as she moved her hand into her panties, working herself into a happy oblivion. As she, came she couldn’t hold back the loud moan, nor could she keep her eyes off Runcorn has he lifted his ass off the sweat soaked sheets and came all over his chest.

 

Their eyes locked as they both screamed with bliss as their orgasms came to new heights. Both of them frozen in time as they rode it out, not knowing how to react to the other.

 

Rita wasn’t sure how she was getting out of this. Nevertheless, the fact that he hadn’t shouted at her and told her to leave left her thinking that maybe revenge wasn’t the answer, maybe joining him was.


End file.
